Allegiant: A Twist within the Bureau
by DivergingFangirl5
Summary: All the hope growing inside me has withered. If my mother, or my father, or my friends were still alive, they would have been waiting by the doors for our arrival. I should have known better to think what happened with Amar- whatever it was- could happen again. ERIS. To be rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my first ever Eris fanfic. It is just the prologue. If this story gets a lot of positive feeback, I will continue updating. I expect myself to write a lemon after this chapter, so the rating will change to M.**

 **I am re-reading Allegiant and it inspired me to write this. Also, the story 'My Cell' has inspired me as well. Check that one out if you want. Really good fanfic.**

 **I am trying to take a few breaks from New Endings as it is really repetitive to write the same story but from another person's view. I fear that I will get bored of it, and to prevent that from happening, I am letting myself to get lost in this story instead. Don't worry, New Endings is still going to be updated :)**

I look around in wonder as Zoe leads our group down a long hallway. After meeting David, my internal organs have been left feeling queasy. I am not sure if the brand new information is to blame, or the fact that David always acts so Amity. He cannot be Amity. He knows a lot of secrets and there is something odd about him. Not that he was living in Chicago to be categorized into a faction. It's just my habit: categorizing people.

I feel Tobias' fingers squeeze mine as we follow our tour guide. He is just as enlightened as I am. We have been living a lie. And in the space of two minutes, all the secrets have been peeled away by the scientific facts.

The scientists here would be Erudite. I can't find them acquiring any other trait than being intelligent. Intelligent but vain.

Christina and Uriah stop abruptly in front of me and I nearly slam into their backs. Tobias pulls me back just in time. I peek over their shoulders to see Zoe with her hands neatly folded at her stomach, smiling warmly at us all.

"This is our exceedingly secured prison," she points behind her to a black door, "We keep fugitives here. Most of them are from the Bureau, but some- you will recognize- are from inside the fence. Due to their murderous characteristics, a serum was put in place in each of the cells. The serum makes you comply with orders one doesn't usually agree with. So if for example, I was to enter the cell, the murderer would probably jump on me and try to kill me. With the serum, the resist that urge. No harm is done to the individual. If anything, it is for their own good."

From my peripheral vision, Peter stares at her blankly.

"Why would they need that serum if they are secure in their cells?" Cara asks from my right.

Zoe furrows her eyebrows as if the information she provided us with is no enough to take us out of our puzzled state.

"Obviously, the criminals in the cells are highly dangerous. I'm not saying that they have a chance of escaping these cells, but with the murderous genes they have, this serum might actually be good for them. It's like therapy. It makes them calmer."

Christina nods to herself more than to Zoe. And Uriah tilts his chin up, indicating that he understands everything.

Tobias squeezes my hand harder.

"Can we see?" Peter folds his arms. I tense up when Zoe nods and opens the black door with a loud _clang._ For some reason, I am afraid of seeing these prisoners.

I follow the group into a different atmosphere. He air is cooler here and it feels good against my skin. When I look down, I see that the floor is white. To my left, the first prison cell has nothing but a glass door to protect us from the murderous person inside. I squint to see the face. He has black hair that is tied into a bun. He sits on the edge of his bed. I don't recognize him.

To my right, I see more glass doors separating us from the killers. They all look surprisingly calm. When I walk past one of the cells, a woman inside it laughs. I wonder if the serum they use is from Amity.

"Makes them calmer?" Tobias drops his voice so that only I can hear him, "Drives them to insanity more like."

A smirk spreads over my mouth.

"Of course," Zoe begins, "Divergents are known to manipulate the serums. Which is why one of our prisoners is being tested. The serum doesn't make him calmer. His body accepts it, he breathes it like air. No matter how high the dosage goes, he still manages to maintain his usual self. Some of our workers don't think he is Divergent. They think he has more murderous genes than any other subject we know of. His state goes to our advantage. We are trying to overcome his violence by re-making this serum."

I look up and see that the ceiling is brightly white. These surroundings remind me too much of Erudite. When I was being escorted to my execution.

"Eric Coulter. You should be familiar with him."

My heart almost stops. It takes me a while to let that name sink into my brain. Did she just say Eric Coulter?

"Eric is dead. Four killed-"

Uriah gets cut off by Zoe.

"Amar was dead too," from this angle I can see the corner of her mouth twitch up into a grin.

Zoe is right. _Amar was dead too._ But so were my parents. So was Will and Marlene and Al. Are they here too?

I barely feel Four's arm when it wraps around my back to support me. He is finding all of this hard to believe too. But we saw Eric die. He collapsed in front of us. He was bleeding out. He died.

Zoe answers that too, as if reading my mind.

"The bullets in the gun Four was using were artificial. The Bureau set it all up. We needed Eric in order to experiment. We have to learn how to eradicate the murder genes."

Eric is alive. He could be Divergent. He could not be Divergent.

Why the hell the bullets that killed my parents were not artificial too?

I am about to yell at that bitch, but we all halt. I turn to stand next to Uriah who wears a dubious expression. All the faces in the group are turned to one particular glass door.

Eric.

I see him sitting on his rock-hard cot. His wrists are linked with cuffs which are attached to two heavy chains. He didn't change at all. The only change is that he is in a cell.

When he tilts his head up at us, an unreadable smile crosses his face. His eyes jump from Peter to Cara to Christina to Uriah, Zoe and Tobias. And then they linger on me for a second too long.

"Finally got out, have you?" His voice is deep. His piercings are still in place.

And when he stands up, the chains attached to his handcuffs rattle against the cold floor.

I let my eyes scan over his body. The prison uniform he was given is plain. It reminds me of Abnegation. Only that particular colour looks humorous on him. Eric? Abnegation?

Zoe touches a few buttons on as keypad installed into the wall next to the cell. When she finishes tapping at the screen, she looks over at us, stepping aside to let us see the monitor.

"As you can probably observe, the serum level is extremely high at this point. We will decrease the dosage to zero percent later this week and start again with the new and improved version of this serum. Hopefully, it will begin to make the subject somewhat… different."

I look back at Eric once Zoe finishes talking. He never took his eyes off of me. Under his glare, I feel small. He sends chills down my spine. And when Four touches my back, I visibly shudder.

"Let's not hang around then," Zoe's voice becomes more cheerful and she skips before starting to lead us back to the exit.

Everybody walks in front of me except from Tobias. I still feel traces of his hand pinching at my back, as if he does not trust me to be in this environment without him.

I cast a quick glance over my shoulder.

Eric is smirking.

 **Review and tell me what you think :)**


	2. Chapter 2

My footsteps barely make a sound as I saunter along the carpeted floors in the hotel, trying to get away from everything.

It is not Tobias' fault. Nita is pretty. And tall and perfectly tanned. Her personality makes me want to hurl though. The way she sneers at me. The way she underestimates my character all the time. How could he be so blind?

Just a minute ago we had a huge fight. He practically called me petty. Why is being a jealous girlfriend so bad? That means I am faithful, does it not?

I shudder internally, not realizing that I am making my way to the prison section of the previous airport pointed out to me yesterday. I don't have time to be fighting battles with Tobias when so much is at risk. I could as well be making progress by finding out about the experiments. And I could only demand those answers from Eric. He might not tell me. But if he tries to blurt out that I have been questioning him, nobody will believe it.

He is a murderer in a cell. I am an orphan who wants to make the world a better place.

I stop in front of the black door, a step closer to my answers. I don't know why I was foolish enough to actually pull on the door handle. But I did it anyway. And obviously it didn't open. Security. Duh.

The cold metal of the door seems to cool down my anger when I press my forehead against it. My mind drifts back to when Zoe gave me a badge when I wanted to see the statue at the entrance of the Bureau.

I shove my hand into my pocket and take it out, swinging it over the sensor. A beep. And then it opens.

Reluctantly, I walk down the brightly lit hallway, glancing from side to side at the glass doors. I notice that the glass has tiny holes in it, which probably enables them to hear the prisoners. How did I not notice this yesterday?

I pass the cell which was inhabited by a laughing woman. She is not there anymore.

The bedsheets are neatly folded and the door is slightly ajar. Where did they take her?

Turning back to my goal, I clear my throat. There, in the last cell, sits Eric. I can imagine his head hanging down as he stares at his feet. The chains keeping him from going too close to the door. No other prisoner has these chains on. Why is Eric so different?

I almost expect him to be gone too, but when I stop in front of his cell, I see him. He is not in the position he was in yesterday. This time he sits on the floor. He doesn't notice me until I shift one foot away from my body. When he lifts his head up, one of his cheeks is full. A blue tray sits on the floor next to him. The plate on it is empty. All that is left is a carton of juice.

"How nice to see you again," he offers as a greeting, the food in his mouth going down his throat so fast that I start to believe he wasn't eating anything at all.

The small screen on the side of his cell reads: _Concentration of PS serum – 99.9%._ And just below it: _Subject unaffected._

When I look back at Eric, he is standing up. The dragging of the chains loud against the floor. With one foot he pushes the tray towards the glass door, then he leans towards me, relying on the strength of the chains to keep him from falling forward.

I look at the blue tray and then back at him. He left his juice box untouched.

He looks like a caged gorilla, desperate to get a glimpse of a human face.

"Well, pick it up then," he warns. For a moment, my heart leaps up, but then I remember than he is in a cell.

"I'm not the janitor," I reply, speaking for the first time after my fight with Tobias. There is a gap at the bottom of the door, allowing the tray to slide through.

He leans back. A loud cough makes me jump and I look back at the black door. When I see that no one is there, I take a deep breath. Must be one of the prisoners.

"Did he fuck you yet?"

My eyes widen at his question, not quite certain what he meant by it. His eyes ravish my body to the point where I begin to feel slightly uncomfortable and have to cross my arms over my chest.

Eric scoffs.

"Wouldn't be so jumpy if he did," he says matter-of-factly. Suddenly, I decide to feel brave.

"And how does a person's edginess at any point intervene with their sex life?"

He is quick to answer, as if he has been rehearsing this conversation in his head.

"I don't expect a Stiff to know about that kind of stuff."

I watch as he lifts his arms up as far as his handcuffs would let him go and flex his muscles. Tattoos cover his arms.

I try to remember why I came here in the first place. I remember being mad at Four, and then storming off to try and get something done. I am here for answers. Now would be a perfect time to get them.

The question that comes out of my mouth surprises me.

"Where is that woman?" I jerk my head in the direction of another prison cell. Eric shapes his mouth into a line and shrugs one shoulder.

"I wish I was dead you know," he says, "I never wanted to come to this place. They interrogate me and inject me until I can barely stand. And for what? A stupid experiment?" He laughs raucously, his voice vibrating through the walls, "A murder gene. What the fuck is a murder gene? What kind of genius came up with that one?"

I feel like he is asking me this and shrug my shoulders.

"I'd tell you to get out of here while you can," he takes two steps back and sits on his cot, "But then I remember… I really don't care what happens to you."

Even though his arrogance and cruelty did not shift, I can tell that he was waiting for a decent conversation to have. You would get bored here. Nobody to socialize with except from the other maniacs in their cells.

"Are they trying to eradicate the murder gene?" I ask. And he replies a split second later.

"Murder genes don't exist. Since when are Stiffs so ditsy?" He didn't need to insult me. He is just trying to keep this conversation going.

I notice his fidgety hands on his lap. The laugh from yesterday springs back to mind. And I realize that he has not answered my question.

Thinking that he will never answer, I move onto my next question.

"Why would they make these things up? They are scientists, they don't-"

He cuts me off. "Why are we so curious all of a sudden?"

"It's none of your business," I reply.

Eric settles in a comfortable position: his back against the wall, his hands on his lap, and his eyes burning holes through me.

"You want me to give you answers?" he purrs.

I nod eagerly, placing my hands against the glass and squeezing my fingers through the holes in the door.

His jaw bones move slightly, suggesting that he is gritting his teeth.

"I will tell you," he says, "If you do a little something for me."

Knowing Eric, that 'little something' could not be little at all. I let myself be drained of hope, anticipating what is to come. An impossible favour.

"There is a small library here. It's near the entrance of the bureau," I lean in closer, suddenly curious, "When you walk through, you will see a great bookshelf near the window. The books there are colour coded. Find the red books. Only one of them is as small as your hand," he glances at my hand, "Take it. And bring it to me."

I don't think twice before walking away. I could get him that stupid book. Why would he need it though? Perhaps his thirst for knowledge. He was in Erudite after all.

Speaking of knowledge, how does he know there is a library here? Or that a particular book exists?

Anyhow, when I do him this favour, he will give me the answers. And even if he doesn't, it won't be a massive problem.

 **Eric wants a book? Hmmm...**

 **Who can guess what's going to happen? ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

My feet carry me to the entrance of the Bureau where I am supposed to find the library. Still puzzled by his confidence in mapping this place out for me, I scan my card against a blue light near one of the doors and walk in.

The water sculpture catches my eye again, spiking my interest. I have no time for this. I need to find the stupid library so that I can grab the book and bring it to Eric. He will give me the answers I need. I hope.

I stand like a statue and scan around for any sign of books or a clear indication that there is a library here. Soon, I see a red door near the scanners all of us went through when we first got here. The word 'library' is printed in white on the door.

When I reach my entrance, I have to scan my card again. Why is there so much security here? Surely, a library is safe for everyone. With a defeated sigh, I walk in and try to remember Eric's instructions.

 _You will see a great bookshelf near the window._

I start scanning for any windows in the room and spot a large one to my left. As I start walking towards it, a buff man places a hand on my chest and pushes me back.

"What are you after, Miss?"

I look up and see how his facial tattoos swirl around his eye sockets. He could have been scarier than Eric if he got himself a couple of piercings. But still, his appearance makes my stomach churn. I try to find my voice.

"Err, I'm just," I clear my throat and speak up, "Just browsing."

"Well, don't hang about for long," when he steps away, I am able to see that nobody else is in this room. That's strange. Libraries are supposed to be packed, right? Appreciating the fact that the bureau is filled with Erudite-smart scientists.

"I won't," I nod at him as he walks away. What was that all about?

Going back to my mission, I start scanning the bookshelf for the red books. Like Eric said. I take a quick glance behind me, catching the tattoo eyed guy walking through another door in the library. I was so focused on my task that I didn't even register how many bookcases there are. Not many. Just the two.

The red book he was talking about stands out like a duck among a group of swans. It's way smaller than the average size. And he was right. It's as big as my hand. And surprisingly heavy. I slide it out from where it was wedged and hug it closer to me. Then I squeeze it into my back pocket as I turn around.

The guard didn't look like the type of guy to lend me a book. So I have to steal it.

I pick up my pace on the way out and take a last glance at him. He never notices me again.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

When I sneak back to the prison, Eric is standing straight, like he is about to be bailed out. I quirk one eyebrow up and wave the book in front of the glass, watching him lean forward.

"You got it," he says. A smile spreads across his face, eyes gluing to the red object in my hand.

"Yeah, I have," playing nice will not work with Eric. So before I give him the stupid novel, or whatever it is, I have to interrogate him. I have the upper hand now, "Now answer me."

His eyes narrow, but he nods his head.

"Where did that woman go?" I ask, "She was here yesterday." I throw my head in the direction of her cell and hold my breath.

Eric's eyes meet mine for a second, but then he looks back at the book.

"They took her, obviously," he huffs.

"Who took her?"

"The scientists. David and his minions."

That makes sense. If they want to experiment on her, they would have to take her out of the cells. But also, how can that be? Eric is getting his daily dose of the PS serum and he is in the prison. I press on.

"If they want to drug her or something, why can't they do it here? Like they are doing with you?"

"Who says they are going to drug her?" he twists his wrists around uncomfortably, grinning a little.

"What do you mean?"

"Her execution was today." I nearly drop what I am holding. Not because I felt sorry for the woman, or for any other prisoner who is stuck here. But because of the bureaus scheme. They execute prisoners? Is that even legal here?

"Why would they…" I trail on, allowing Eric to complete my sentences and answer them before I respond.

"Murder the prisoners?" he smirks, "Well, the experiment is over Tris. The prisoner was drugged to her limit. It's like wiping a wet stain with a towel and then throwing it away. You are not going to dry a towel are you? That will waste time. Well, you might do that. You're a Stiff."

I am left speechless. So this is one of the secrets they are keeping here. I have to tell Tobias. And Christina and Uriah. Right away.

"You going to slide it under the door, or…?"

I hold his masked gaze because jumping back to reality. Before I pass the book onto him, I glance at it one last time and kneel forward. It slides along the tiled floor smoothly, hitting Eric's boots. Once it is within his reach, he bends down and scoops it up with two hands.

I stick around for the amusement of seeing him open the book and begin reading it. Like the Erudite he is.

But he doesn't read it. There is barely any paper in between the covers.

"Anything new with you then, Tris?" I am not good with small talk. Especially this kind. I watch him take out a white object and wedge it between his handcuffs. They come undone and clatter to the floor, "How's life on the edge?"

He takes his time. The book hits the wall behind him as he comes up to the glass door and scans the object which is granting him his freedom. It looks like a card. The door clicks open, evicting a chuckle only maniacs can acquire.

I was paralysed before this. But now I have to start moving. I just released a deadly prisoner. By smuggling him a key card.

I am about to turn and run towards the alarm button but then another idea hits me. This morning, before my fight with Tobias, we went to the weapons lab (another tour with Zoe). Not feeling the weight of a gun in my belt loop was not comforting, especially not in this environment. I couldn't trust any of these people just like that.

Anyway, I stole a gun. It's not a big thing, it's a miniature model. But to me it looked secure.

I whip it out of my belt loop and aim it at Eric. Once he sees it, a warm smile covers his face. It can't be as warm as it looks.

"I knew you were a bit of a rebel," he slurs, sliding the key card into his pocket swiftly. He doesn't at all look bothered that I am threatening to shoot him.

He approaches me like I am a wild animal, his movements slow.

"Aww, come on, sweetheart," his tone is hushed. I watch him lift his hands up towards me, "Just let me go. I don't want any trouble."

"I can't let you go," I hiss, blood rushing up to my face. I will be in so much trouble if anybody finds out about this. They would kill me too. For being a pest.

"It was an accident," he says, cupping my hands in his slowly. I clutch my gun tighter, expecting him to take it off me. His calloused hands run up my wrists and stop at my elbows. He forces my arms down slowly, evidently moving the weapon away from his face.

"There we are," his eyes turn to stone again, "Now just let me walk away."

I am about to lift the gun again but he has already started walking to the dead end of the corridor. I watch him for a moment, wondering what he will do.

Just then, my head starts to spin. Toxic smells fill the air. I scrunch up my nose and cough once. Twice. Three times.

When I look back at his cell, I notice the concentration of the serum lowering on the little screen. It is seeping out into the corridor.

I gasp and turn my head to look at Eric. He is already gone. And there is an open vent in the wall.

 **Tell me what you think in the reviews :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Apologies for the late update. I was on holiday. The next chapter will be the last :)**

"I will make sure that nothing like that will happen again," Tobias says sternly.

"I should hope not," David replies, "Are you even able to comprehend how much danger you put everybody in?"

I listen to him shout the same sentence for the millionth time today. The look in his eyes never changes.

"If you're so angry, why don't you drug me with the memory serum and send me back to Chicago?"

Some air escapes my lungs as Four slaps my back. I look up at him and see his glaring expression. He is warning me not to push it too far with David. But it is already too late. I am at my highest raging point. And I need to let it all out.

He mouths my name. I roll my eyes.

"That's a good idea," David points at me, "But unfortunately we still need you. And so do your friends."

His office is stirringly shut out. The rest of the building seems to love light. But this room needs to be lit up by six lamps to create a place where people can actually see.

Once he called me up to his office, Tobias insisted he would go with me. Probably to cover for me. We haven't even had the chance to sit down. David did so much yelling that sitting down felt wrong.

In the end, he demanded that I do two weeks of community service. Not that a silly thing like that would ever repay him for what I did.

"Get out of my office," he commands.

We immediately scatter out of the room, not daring to look back at the grumpy leader.

I was feeling guilty when Eric tricked me into bailing him. It ultimately led me to my own embarrassment. I only arrived here a few days ago and already everyone hates me. On the other hand though, it wasn't all my fault. I didn't know that I would be releasing the most dangerous prisoner here. It was my curiosity. Always curiosity.

I straighten my back as I follow Tobias down a corridor. He turns around and I bump into his chest. If our ongoing fight about Nita is still going on, this argument is automatically made 100% worse.

"When are you going to stop putting yourself in danger?" Tobias folds his arms in front of me, growing a few inches taller.

"I don't have time for this." For some reason, I thought I was going to slip past him. Always, I underestimate him.

He stops me by grabbing my arm. I have no choice but listen to his upcoming lecture.

"Sometimes I'm not even sure why we are together," he says.

My shoulders and neck start burning. Then the heat finds my cheeks and I have to look down. If there is anything that told me I still loved him, it would be the heat that ignited in me when he said those kinds of things.

But suddenly, my walls start rising again.

"Did Nita make you say that?"

"Nita has nothing to do with this," he spits, anger rising. Should I push it?

"No, but I bet she will be so happy when she finds out about this argument. She has been waiting for this, I bet," something in his eyes flickers.

"Are you jealous of Nita? Is that it?"

"I'm not fucking jealous!"

And that's how I knew he won the fight. Because I started cussing. The explicit language evidently shows that I have no better comeback. We both know that.

"Find me when you're less whipped up,"

"I'm not gonna come looking for you," by this point, I have already started walking.

This time he didn't stop me.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

It is quarter past eleven when I reach the cafeteria doors. As expected, they are closed. The next time they will open to me will be tomorrow, first thing in the morning. I skipped lunch and dinner today. Lunch because I bailed out a prisoner, and dinner because of that meeting with David. My stomach is contracting painfully, but I ignore it.

I walk past the double doors and keep my head down when some workers pass me. Do they know what happened today? Do they know me? If they didn't before, they should by now.

I stumble upon a lonely hallway. My first instinct is to turn back and go to bed. But this time, the eerie silence calms me down. I am alone just like this space. And I belong here. For now.

The cold stone is freezing when I lean against the wall. I can feel it even through my jacket.

My eyelids are suddenly heavy. I allow myself to close my eyes for a moment, breathing in the stale air. All too soon, they snap open when a flickering light passes them.

I scan the hallway quickly in search of any living thing that could have the ability to create the flickering, but I don't notice anyone. Must be the paranoia. Or the overdose of the SP serum that leaked out earlier today.

Before I start walking back, the flickering catches my eye again. I look around, knowing that I wouldn't find anything, but then I see it.

In the vents. There is a torchlight in the vents.

Eric.

Blood rushes up to my face. I freeze. He is probably trying to get my attention, but why?

Stupidly, I start following the light. It doesn't take me much time to get there. When I do, I reach up and tap on the vent to check if it is open. It falls to the floor and I jump back. There is a hole in the wall for a small person like me to get through. I jump up and latch on, pulling myself into the space.

A quiet shriek escapes me when enormous, calloused hands grab my wrists and pull me in. I should have been expecting that.

The vent is bigger than I thought it would be. I can sit up. And I can stretch out. But before I do, I am met with Eric's face. He is staring right at me.

So this is where he was all day? Hiding in vents?

His face is more confident than it was when he was in the cell. His eyes look more alive. I could either blame the fumes he was inhaling or the boredom that was seeking him out during the days when he was locked up. Either way, he looks different.

He is wearing a black jacket. And there are a couple of guns strapped to his belt. So he changed his outfit.

He doesn't say a word. He turns around and starts crawling deeper into the vent.

I follow him.

We make clanging noises when our boots touch the metallic floor. Sometimes, there is talking beneath us. Sometimes, there is deadly silence. When he slows to a stop, I hear nothing. That's good, right? Nobody will find us this way… unless he is trying to kill me. Then that's bad.

I almost don't notice as he jumps down from the vent. A heavy thud sounds beneath me. I wait for a few seconds. Should I follow him? If I do, there will be no turning back. If he is planning something, I will not be able to overpower him.

I jump down.

Before me stands a Dauntless rebel. He helped make the deaths of hundreds of Abnegations possible. He is the person who was impressed by me when I beat the crap out of Molly. He was only impressed when I wasn't.

I wrap my arms around myself as he smirks. He withdraws his guns and lays them out on a table. For a second, I thought he would use the weapons on me.

I feel my heartbeat calm down slightly and take my chance to look around the room. It is a small space. No windows. Two tables. One door in the shadows. The lights on the ceiling are dim. This room hasn't been used in years. A thick coat of dust on the table justifies me.

"I'm leaving" is the first thing he says, "I found a way out."

He folds his arms, making his biceps bulge slightly. It is noticeable even through his black jacket.

"What if I tell David where you are?"

This could either be really right or really wrong. Surely, if I bring back one of their prisoners, everyone will start trusting me again. David…. Tobias.

"Then you'll have to find your way out of here first," he murmurs. That would sound like one has trapped me in a room, without me knowing any exits or escape routes. But _he_ makes it sound like I could escape at any minutes, and before I could inform anyone of his whereabouts, he would already be gone.

I nod along slowly, taking one last glance around.

"Come with me," he whispers so quietly that I begin doubting whether I even heard him at all. But I know I have, because his whole face softened.

"Come with…?" I trail off, shaking my head slowly. He clears his throat.

"You don't belong here. You don't conform to those people. You want to feel like you're home,"

"I won't feel at home if I go back," I say truthfully.

"I never said we'll be going back," he answers. This catches my attention. I stay silent, allowing him to continue, "Louisiana."

I stare at him dubiously.

"Who's Louisiana?"

Eric chuckles slightly, leaning against the table as he looks down at me.

"It's a state… like Chicago is… except it is not being experimented on. I'm just saying… maybe you and somebody else would like to move there." I assume by 'somebody else' he means Tobias. The mention of him makes me frown.

"Even if we do relocate to Louisiana… you will still be a criminal," I say cockily. His proud smile never leaves his face.

"That's my problem, baby. Don't worry about it."

Before I can answer, he starts walking towards me. In a second, I stand taller and unfold my arms. He could be suggesting the best idea ever but I still hate him. He is still a murderer.

"How long did you stay in the corridor for after I left?" he asks, placing his hands on the wall behind me. His face is so close to mine that I can smell his breath.

"Not long," I answer, leaning up just enough for our noses to touch. He narrows his eyes, counting each freckle on my nose.

"Not long," he repeats, "It doesn't take long for the serum to get into your system."

"The SP serum?" I am still unsure of what exactly the serum does. It tries to corrupt the murder genes, right? If they even exist.

"Yeah," his voice is low as he traces my jaw with his finger, "Have you not realized that you are extremely comfortable with having me around?"

I have noticed. And I never tried to push him away.

"I like you like this," he whispers, cradling my cheek with his hand. I shiver under his touch, "I thought that Divergents could reject the influence certain serums have on them."

"Who said that I want to reject the serum?" I lower my voice to his level. Even the tattoos on his neck melt at my words.

Why am I letting myself do this? It could be the serum, but I know I can control it. Maybe I would like to conform just for a minute. Get away from all the reality. Eradicate my "murder" genes. Allow the serum to make me a better person. Allow myself to be happy again.

Something in my core tightens when he runs his hand down the open space on my chest until his fingers reach the zip of my jacket.

Eric's husky voice travels down my ear canal, evicting a small moan from my mouth.

"I never thanked you for bailing me out."


	5. Chapter 5

It didn't take much to get Eric going. In fact, it didn't take anything at all. A few grinds against me, sly kisses on the neck and before I knew it, there was a definite tent in his trousers.

He has broken the news that I already knew: perhaps the SP Serum has manipulated me in some way. I am letting Eric do this to me. I am letting the serum get into my bloodstream again and again, but somehow I do not want it to go anywhere else. I want this. I need this.

I watch his brow furrow as he starts to tug off my pants. He has already propped me onto the idle table that has occupied this room. One of his hands supports my back as his other calloused one struggles with the tight fabric I was given. Some veins start rising among his fingers as he clenches his fist.

I look back at his face. He wears the same expression he did when he shot all of those innocent Candors.

Once my pants are off and forgotten, he doesn't bother with my shirt. He simply stares at it, as if wondering what the hell it is doing on my body.

"I'm a virgin," I blurt out. Eric finds his smirk again and trails one hand down my neck.

"I know," he replies. A gasp escapes my lips when he pinches my earlobe with his manly fingers, "I can't promise I will go easy on you, though."

How did I know that he was going to say that? It doesn't take me long to decide that I don't care.

Finally, his lips find mine. My arms are the only thing keeping me in a sitting up position. He kisses with so much force that the brittle bones threaten to snap. The growl in his throat startles me. I always need to remind myself: he is a murderer he is a murderer he is a murderer. He was put into a prison outside of Chicago. He was put into an experimentation prison because he is that bad. No normal killer would have to go here. He did. He is dangerous.

I kiss him back weakly, pending on whether I should grip the back of his head. I do. I grip it with two hands, putting myself into a position where he could easily crush me with his body on the table. I hold onto him but he never moves down. He wants me like this.

His tattooed arms snake around my middle. They are gone before they even settled. Cold air hits my sensitive skin when he yanks off my underwear. I gasp.

"How did Four ever resist you?" his mouth is back to my neck. Sucking, biting a licking. I giggle because it tickles.

My laughter slowly dies out when one of his fingers slides into me. It feels big. And rough. I open my eyes, realizing that he is studying my expression. He looks serious.

I wince when his second finger finds its way into me. That causes him to smile.

"So tight," he whispers.

Eric starts pumping them in and out at a steady pace. After about ten seconds it starts to sting. Evidently, he notices and pulls them out. I nearly ask him what he is going to do now but then all my questions are answered when he lowers his face down to my region. My heartbeat jumps out of my chest for a second.

All my insecurities disappear when he thrusts his tongue into my core shamelessly. I collapse onto the table and arch my back. For some reason I cannot keep my eyes closed. I stare at the ceiling until he grips one of my hips. That is when I glance down and notice how tattooed his skin actually is. Until now I thought that he had more piercings than tattoos.

An involuntary cry runs through me when his mouth starts sucking on my clit. The great thing about this is that he is not gentle at all. The even greater thing is that I like it.

Shots of sparks rush down my stomach. This is a new feeling. It never felt so good in my life. Nothing did.

The hairs on my arms stick up like soldiers. But Eric pulls away before I even have the time to experience this feeling. This thing people get when having sex. I think Christina called it an orgasm.

"Goose bumps," he whispers, pulling me up into a sitting position again. I follow his gaze down to my legs. There are indeed goose bumps. I am not even cold.

He unzips his pants and reaches into his boxers, pulling out an impressive manhood. The tip is slightly pink and glistens with pre-cum that managed to squirt out and coat his head. The shaft is thick. And veins run along it just like they do on his hand. From then onwards, I am unable to see it anymore because he starts to stroke his length up and down.

I gasp when he grabs my hair and makes me look at him.

"You ready for this?"

"I am," but am I?

His pants drop down to his knees when he pulls my ass off the table. I do my best to sit up, but when the edge of the table digs into my tail bone, I allow myself to lay down. Eric picks me back up in a heartbeat. And this time I am completely off the table. With my limbs wrapped around his muscular body, he slides himself in.

At first, I expect the pain to leave me disabled. However, once he moves himself out and pushes back in, everything subsides.

My eyes are levelled with his. I do not hesitate before angling my fingers in his hair. He kisses me again, and this time I feel exactly how painful a stubble like that should be. The sharp hairs scratch along my jawline and down my neck when he kisses me there. I start moaning in pure bliss.

He stays quiet.

Eric's fingers threaten to leave bruises where he is holding me. I feel my core tightening around his member as he continues to move in and out of me.

The metal table finds my skin again but this time, Eric keeps me sat straight as he thrusts. I find myself staring at his chest when I have found my ground. He was using all of his strength to keep his eyes on me a second ago.

Suddenly, his thrusts become more urgent and harsh. Nothing is painful though. Actually, it becomes more amazing.

I feel his warm hands run up my back before the feeling of his nails digging into my skin replaces it.

"Fuck, Tris. I want to keep you," he growls against my ear. What does he mean by that? Keep me?

The pleasure takes over my body and I am too overwhelmed to even evaluate what he was talking about. Something in my lower region explodes. Oh my god. I throw my head forward and bite down on his clothed shoulder. His chuckle vibrates through his body.

"Fuck!" he groans again. I feel his hands explore my body in a short second. From my bra to my shoulders to my legs and then up my hips. I am wearing so many layers still, but I feel so close to him.

Repeated moans echo through the room as he stills inside of me. I lift my head up to look at a smug smile he might be wearing. But he isn't smiling. Instead, his mouth is in a firm line.

And his hand cups my cheek as sure as a lover's.

 **The end :)**


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